Wings of Promise (12 page)

What could Kate say? Being a pilot was dangerous. Finally she sputtered, “What do you want from me? I can’t guarantee that nothing terrible will happen. No one can. And you’re just as bad. You’re in the air nearly as much as I am.”

“You’re right. I could die any day . . . just like you.” He stared out the window. “But as selfish as this sounds . . . if I’m dead, I don’t care.” He looked at her. “If you’re dead, I have to live . . . without you.”

“So, what are you saying?” Kate knew, but she had to ask.

He folded his arms across his chest. “It would be better . . . if we didn’t see each other anymore.”

Kate’s stomach dropped. “But you said you love me.”

“It’s because I love you that I can’t see you.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I can’t love you. Don’t you see? If I do, I’ll lose you.”

Kate couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “If we break up, you’re losing me. And whether we’re together or not, if something happens to me, you lose me.”

Paul’s expression turned more miserable. “I know it sounds crazy, but the longer we’re together, the more I’ll love you, and when the inevitable happens . . .”

“You can shut off your emotions just like that?” She fought tears.

Paul worked his jaw. He didn’t answer.

“Fine. It’s better that I know now. What a fool I’d be to love a man who can stop caring anytime he wants.” She spat the words at him.

“You don’t understand. It’s not like that. I can’t shut it off. I love you—more every day. Every moment we spend together my love grows stronger.” He shook his head. “When I lost Susan, I swore I’d never love anyone again.” He sat back and looked away. “I’m sorry, Kate. It’s over.”

K
ate had been dreading this delivery. She hadn’t seen Paul since they’d ended their relationship. What should she say? Should she act like nothing happened, treat him like any other customer?

When she circled above his cabin, her throat tightened. There was no sign of him. Maybe he was at Susitna Station. She hoped so. Or maybe he wouldn’t recognize the plane. She’d had to bring Jack’s pontoon plane today.

And although she knew eventually they’d work together, she couldn’t bring herself to fly with him yet. Sorrow felt as if it would squeeze the oxygen out of her lungs.

She’d imagined spending their days here, fishing the rivers and streams, working in the garden, adding on to the cabin for the children they’d have. She felt the familiar ache in her chest and the frequent tears that kept her eyes red-rimmed. She wiped them away, determined to show Paul that she was fine.

I am fine
, she told herself.
It’s over, and dwelling on what happened won’t change anything.

The plane splashed down on the quiet stream and she headed toward his dock. When she saw Paul step out of the shed, her stomach turned over.

Angel recognized the stop and ran for the door, her tail wagging hard.

“No. Not today, girl. You stay.” Kate grabbed a box of supplies, and keeping an eye on Angel to make sure she stayed put, she opened the door and stepped out, package under her arm.

She closed the plane door and waited on the dock, watching Paul walk down the path. She loved how he carried his body, broad shoulders back and long strides. When he approached, she couldn’t manage a smile and simply nodded. “This is for you.”

Paul took the box and glanced at the return address. “Good. I’ve been waiting for these—nearly out of gauze and bandages.” He tucked the box under his arm and set his dark eyes on her. “How you been?”

“Good. Busy. You know how it is this time of year.”

“Yeah.” Paul glanced at the creek.

“You been doing much fishing?” Kate asked.

“In my spare time. I have quite a few in the smokehouse.” He glanced at the small wood structure at the edge of the clearing behind his house, then looked at the plane. “So, you’re flying Jack’s plane today.”

“Yeah. I need pontoons.” Kate looked back at the Stinson. “It doesn’t fly as nice as mine.”

“Well, you’ve got the best, right?” He gave her a stiff smile.

Kate nodded, then said, “I better get moving. I’ve got a lot of stops to make.”

“Sure. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you.” He took a few steps up the trail, then stopped and looked back at Kate.

She forced a smile and waved, then climbed into the plane. She moved away from the dock. Tears blurred her vision as she lifted off the water and headed north. She felt no joy in her job—what good was it to continue to fly if it meant living without the man she loved? But as the thought pounded her mind, another niggled at her. What kind of man would insist that she choose between her love of flying and him? Anger swelled, replacing sorrow, and she swiped away the tears. Maybe Paul wasn’t the man she thought he was.

Paul reached beneath a pea vine, grabbed hold of a clump of fescue, and tugged it free. He shook off excess dirt and dropped the weed into a bucket. It felt good to work with the earth.

Sitting back on his heels, he looked down the row. Small green pods, just beginning to sprout, promised a late July feast of creamed peas and baby potatoes.

“Hey Paul,” Patrick called, stepping into the garden and trudging down the row.

Paul stood and wiped the dirt from his hands onto his blue jeans. “Thought you and the boys went fishing.”

“Wish I had. But Sassa won’t wait on that broken window frame another day.”

Paul grinned. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re working on a window anyway.”

“I need some help. Could you lend me a hand?”

“Sure. No problem.”

The two headed toward Patrick’s. They hadn’t gone far when Patrick said, “Heard you and Kate split up.”

“Yeah.” Paul didn’t want to talk about it.

“Sorry to hear it. She’s a fine lady.”

“She is.”

“Don’t mean to pry, but you never said anything all these weeks. What happened between the two of you?”

Paul knew he needed to talk to someone about what was going on inside his heart, but he couldn’t bring himself to reveal his fears. “Just wouldn’t have worked out.”

Patrick cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t probe. “Can’t say Sassa’s unhappy about it. She likes Kate, but you know . . .” He stopped. “I thought you and Kate were well suited to each other.”

Paul could see he wasn’t going to get away without an explanation. “We are . . . kind of. But it comes down to her job. It’s risky, too risky. I don’t want to live every day wondering if this is the one when she dies.”

Patrick nodded slightly. “I can see how that would be hard on you, but any one of us can die today, maybe tonight, anytime. When we fall in love and commit to someone, there’s no guarantee our lives will be long. Seems to me that while you’re still living, you ought to love all you can. No one’s going to get out of this world still breathing.”

“I know all that’s true, but Kate pushes it. Her job’s going to take her sooner, not later.”

Patrick shrugged and pushed his hands into his pockets. “Makes no sense to me, but it’s your life.”

Paul knew he was being a coward and that he’d broken Kate’s heart. But she’d get over him, and given time, he’d get over her . . . in time. He just hoped that when her final day came, he’d be over her.

Paul held the window frame in place while Patrick hammered in a nail. Taking another from between his teeth, Patrick pounded it in, then climbed down from a ladder and stepped back to look at his work. “Is it straight?”

Paul studied the frame. “It’s slightly higher on the right than the left.”

Patrick grimaced. “Yeah. I thought so too. But I figure if Sassa’s not happy with it, she’ll let me know.”

“Let you know what?” Sassa asked as she stepped around the corner of the house. She looked at the window. “It’s crooked.”

Patrick half grinned. “Yep.”

Sassa stared at the window. “Ah, it’s good enough. You can barely tell.” She turned to Paul. “How you set for canned carrots?”

“Running low. But I’ll make do until the new crop is ready.”

“I don’t know if we ate less or if I canned more, but I’ve got a bunch of extra jars. Could you use some?”

“Sure. I’ll take a few off your hands.”

“Come on out to the shed, then. I’ll put some in a box for you.” She ambled around the house and down the short trail leading to the storage room.

“See you later,” Patrick said. “I’ve got some cabinets to paint. Better get to it.”

“Don’t wear yourself out.” Paul followed Sassa.

Lily nearly collided with him as he rounded the house. She had a clothes basket piled with wet towels propped against one hip.

“Sorry.” Paul reached out to steady her.

“It’s my fault. I was in a hurry.”

Sassa opened the shed door. “Lily, can you give us a hand?”

“Sure.” Lily set the basket on the ground beneath the clothesline, then headed for the storage room.

Sassa grabbed two wooden boxes and set them on a workbench before she started clearing shelves of carrots. Dust mingled with the musty smell hanging in the air. “I’ve got a bunch of peas too,” she said, handing a jar to Lily.

“Thanks.” Paul didn’t need more peas but didn’t want to offend Sassa, so he accepted the gift without argument.

When the two boxes were full, Sassa stood back and looked over the half-empty shelves. “I guess that’s it.” She turned to Lily. “Can you carry one of them over?”

Lily glanced at Paul. He could see humor in her eyes. They both knew Sassa was back to her matchmaking now that Kate was out of the picture. It would have been funny if he didn’t feel so miserable about Kate.

He picked up the box of carrots. “Thanks, Sassa. This will help get me through. But Lily doesn’t have to haul that over for me. I can come back for it.”

“She doesn’t mind, do you, Lily.” Sassa smiled at her daughter.

“No. Glad to help. But I left a basket of wet laundry sitting out.”

“I’ll hang the clothes.”

Lily picked up the jars of peas and led the way out, then headed toward the trail. She and Paul walked side by side. Neither spoke.

When they reached Paul’s place he strode into the shed and set his box on a workbench. “Just put yours here beside these.”

Lily placed the box on the worktable. “Do you actually need all of these?”

“Some of it.” He smiled. “Your mother’s a generous woman.”

“She is, but I think she wanted to make sure you had enough to carry so you’d need help.”

Paul chuckled. “You’re probably right.”

Silence sifted between them, and then Lily said, “Me and the boys are going fishing tomorrow. Would you like to come? They’d get a kick out of showing you up.” She grinned.

“I haven’t had much time for fishing. Sounds like fun.”

“Good. I’ll bring lunch,” Lily said.

“And I’ll bring the gear and bait.”

“Seven o’clock sound okay?”

“I’ll be ready.” Paul felt almost lighthearted. “We can take my boat up the creek. I know just the place.”

Lily’s brothers loaded bait and untied the line tethering the dory to the dock while Paul started his Johnson outboard. Lily settled in the bow and the boys found seats on the benches. Paul steered toward the center of the creek, the small engine making a puttering sound.

“This ought to be fun,” Douglas said. “I know just the place.”

“No. Today Paul chooses where we fish,” Lily said.

“I know a good fishing hole,” Paul said with a smile.

Lily sat quietly, gazing at the surroundings. She looked older than she had before moving to Seattle. She’d put on a little weight. Maybe that was it. But she acted more grown up too. Odd, how a few months could make such a difference. Paul thought he detected melancholy in the young woman and wondered if something was bothering her.

“It’s strange how different everything looks from the middle of the creek.” Lily leaned over and dipped her hand in the water.

The boys did the same, making the boat teeter.

“All right. Settle down,” Paul said. “The last thing we need is to get dunked. It may be June, but that water is ice cold.”

The boys sat down and stared ahead. Lily lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes.

Paul couldn’t keep from staring. Her tanned skin was flawless and her black hair shimmered in the sunlight. When she turned to look at him, he quickly averted his eyes.

Acting as if she hadn’t noticed, she said, “So, are you giving away the location of your favorite fishing hole?”

Paul smiled. “I’ve got more than one.”

“I’ve got at least six,” Ethan bragged. “And I’m not telling no one where they are.” He grinned.

“Well, there are plenty of good places on this creek,” Paul said.

They motored past Klaus’s cabin and spotted him in the garden.

“Hi, Klaus,” the boys hollered.

He waved. “Gut day for fishing.”

“Hope you’re right,” Paul called back.

Klaus folded his arms over his rounded stomach and watched them move past.

“We’ll bring you back a big one,” Lily said.

“Danke.” He returned to work.

“Sometimes I wonder if he’s lonely,” Lily said.

Robert dipped a hand in the water. “I go and see him all the time. He’s really good at whittling and always likes to teach me.”

Paul smiled, but figured Klaus must be lonely some of the time.

“I worry about him living out here all by himself,” Lily said. “His health isn’t so good.”

“Has he ever mentioned moving into town?” Paul steered the boat into the deep water in the middle of the creek.

“No. He’d never do that.” She stared at the old man’s cabin until it melded into the lush greenery at the river’s edge. Her voice thick, she asked, “Do you think he’ll live much longer?”

“Hard to say. He won’t let me check him over.” When he noticed that all three boys were staring at him, waiting for his answer, Paul added, “He’s a tough old guy. If I were a betting man, I’d say he’ll be around a good while.”